


The Wreck of the Beautiful

by thespiderbaby



Category: The Fast Show
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Loneliness, M/M, Mental Health Issues, One-Sided Attraction, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:44:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespiderbaby/pseuds/thespiderbaby
Summary: Ralph's final moments.





	The Wreck of the Beautiful

No one would notice. He rarely left the big house at all these days, and even his visits to Ted were becoming less and less frequent. He wouldn't be missed. No one would bother coming to see him, to check he was alright. They'd only come up when they desperately needed him, and when did that ever happen? He wasn't needed or wanted by anyone. But when they decided to act like they valued him, they'd hammer on the door until their knuckles were bloody. They'd race down to Ted's cottage for the spare key. They'd be too late though, much too late. The wild animals, the vermin that he unknowingly shared his lodgings with would have already made a feast of his corpse; an eye plucked out, several fingers missing, his face pecked into a warped smile. Of course, there would be grieving afterwards, all fake of course, as who ever took the time to talk to him, to be kind to him, to befriend him? None of them ever cared about him beyond his land and money, and the potential for gossip to revolve around him. We should've known, they'd say. We should've noticed the signs. Empty things that were no use now.

Ralph wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Looked out towards Ted's cottage for the last time. It had been... five days? Five days since he'd been to see him. Although it was hard to tell. Ralph had nothing to fill his days with; everything merged into one great long stretch of time. He had kept telling himself that Ted would visit soon, but he was finding that increasingly harder to believe. He might as well get it over and done with, stop this waiting around. It was waiting that had foiled his first attempt. Ralph's friend from university, Peter, had walked in on him slashing his wrists. When Peter wrestled the blade from him and demanded an explanation, Ralph could only weep and wail. That had been the end of that; Peter hadn't visited Ralph in hospital, and had only spoken to him afterwards to tell him that he didn't want to be associated with "somebody so dangerous and unstable". One by one, Ralph's university friends had abandoned him in a similar fashion. "You're vile," they said. "I can't trust you. You might hurt somebody else next; it's better if you're locked up." Ralph was sent away from university, but that didn't stop his fellow students from embellishing the story of 'Mad Ralph' to turn their former friend into something unrecognisable, a cheap scare tactic for new students. After that, no one dared to stay in Ralph's old room.

Only Ted had come to see Ralph in hospital, not saying much, but looking at him with a pained look on his face. The memories were fuzzy, but was that a hint of fear behind those eyes? Indeed, when Ralph returned home, his parents sent away most of the staff, and made a point of seeing him as little as possible. As Ralph strolled the grounds with his bandaged arms, his conversations with Ted, who was the only one to show him kindness and who was patient with his violent outbursts and mood swings, became the highlight of his days. He was grateful for the humanity he was shown, but his heart ached. He wanted more from Ted. And still, after all these years, Ralph's feelings were just as strong. To walk hand in hand with Ted, to kiss him, for Ted to hold him close, so that his sideburns tickled Ralph's cheek- these were the things that Ralph kept to comfort himself with, and the things that he dreamed would one day happen.

Yet Ted would not visit him now, when Ralph was at his lowest point, so what was the point in continuing to dream? Ralph felt he had lost everything. Sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed, he brought his blade to his neck, his hand shaking as it got closer to the skin. Who would be the one to find him like this? Would it be Ted? Would he cry? Would he scream? Would he cradle Ralph's limp body in his arms as he desperately searched for signs of life? Ralph had left a note for Ted; would Ted think to look in Ralph's desk, where he would find all the other notes, the love letters that Ralph had addressed to him but never had the courage to send.

Ralph couldn't bear to think anymore. He gulped, his breath quickening. He rubbed his eyes again; Ralph hadn't seen his reflection in days but he knew he must look a state. Pale, with bloodshot eyes and unkempt hair. If anyone else was to see him, they might make the mistake of thinking they had encountered a ghost. They wouldn't be far off, as young Mr Mayhew was minutes away from death. Dead without an heir, the papers would say. You can't expect a queer like him to carry on the family line anyway, the locals would say. A tragic end to a once great family. 

Ralph closed his eyes again and gripped his blade. There was silence as the life went out of him and his body slumped onto the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Divine Comedy song of the same name. One day I'll write a happy Ted and Ralph fic!


End file.
